


The Doctor Is In

by Salazar101



Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed 2 - Fandom, Prototype (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Univese, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-05
Updated: 2011-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:03:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salazar101/pseuds/Salazar101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cross has to get a check-up, his doctor is kind of eccentric</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Doctor Is In

He was getting to that age where it was time to start really paying attention to his health. His sister had been urging him to get checked for ages, "Men your age are always getting cancer!" she'd say over dinner as he slouched before his mashed potatoes and wish she wouldn't have this conversation _now_.

"I know-" he'd say before getting cut off.

"So you need to make an appointment!" she'd jab a fork at him while her children picked at their food, looking a little bored but not nearly as mortified as he was, they were quite used to her at this point.

"I will-" he'd say before getting cut off _again_.

"No, you know what," she'd say, "I will make the appointment for you!"

"That's not-"

"Nah ah, no need to thank me!" she'd say smugly, digging back into her food, "That's what family's for!"

Then five minutes later she'd forget about the whole conversation and he'd slink out of the house and vow to never come to dinner again. Inevitably he'd end up back at the dinner table and the whole horrible process would start right back up again. However last time she _hadn't_ forgotten. She actually had called up a proctologist working out of the local hospital and set up an appointment for him.

So Captain Robert Cross, a celebrated military official, found himself sitting awkwardly in the hospital waiting room in a chair that was too small for him while awaiting his prostate exam from a man who'd been called by his younger sister. It was all so _humiliating_. He wouldn't put it past his sister to ask about the whole thing over dinner while his nieces and nephews were sitting around them. God no, he _refused_ to take part in that conversation.

"Mr. Robert Cross?"

Robert looked up as his name was called and saw a male nurse with only one arm holding a clipboard and looking irritated, though he couldn't figure out why. Maybe this man was just annoyed on principle alone, "That's me," he said, getting to his feet and brushing off his black slacks.

"Mmhmm," said the nurse, setting the clipboard down on a nearby table and pulling a pen from his pocket to write something down on the paper there, "You're here to see Dr. Mercer, yes?"

"Er, yes," he said, trying to see what the other was writing but unable to read his handwriting.

"Very well," the nurse looked bored to death as he inclined his head at Robert and motioned for him to follow him further into the hospital.

Robert walked after him, wondering how a nurse got by with one arm, "So, can I know your name?" he asked, mainly to chase away the awkward silence.

"Malik," snapped the nurse, turning a sharp corner and dodging a row of empty wheelchairs, "Oh god..." Malik looked like he was about to be sick as his eyes darted this way and that through the hallway as if looking for a hiding place.

Robert frowned and then looked from him to the end of the hallway to see what appeared to be a doctor strutting down the hallway towards them, though his eyes were on some papers in his hand and it didn't look like he'd noticed them yet, "What's wrong?" asked Robert, looking back at Malik.

"Oh you mother-"

Robert's voice had caused the doctor to look up, his face splitting into a wicked grin as he spotted the dark skinned Malik and confused looking Robert behind him, "Malik!" he said, tucking his papers under one arm and striding over to them, "I think you've been avoiding me!"

"I think you're a fucking-MMPH!"

Robert's mouth fell open as the doctor pulled Malik into a kiss. He hadn't been to a non-military hospital in awhile, were they all this...off? He hoped Dr. Mercer was more sane than the doctor and nurse appeared to be.

Malik violently pushed the doctor away, "Altair!" he hissed, smacking him repeatedly with the clipboard, "I have a patient with me you stupid son of a whore!"

"And he looks charmed by your bedside manner," teased Altair, "Don't think you'll get away from me again!" with an almost mocking laugh the brown haired man walked off, his white lab coat flaring out behind him.

"What was-"

"Don't talk," snapped Malik, "Follow me!"

Robert took one last look at Altair's back before jogging after Malik's furious long legged strides. He was led further and further into the hospital, into elevators and through hallways, past automatic doors and rooms full of patients. He was about to ask how much further they had to go when Malik stopped so suddenly Robert almost ran into him.

"In here, change into the gown and Dr. Alex Mercer will be with you shortly," without waiting for a reply the dark skinned nurse walked away.

"Okay..." said Robert, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. It was a basic examination room, a hospital gown lay folded neatly on the padded table. He started to strip out of his clothes folding them up compulsively and setting them on an empty chair in the corner of the room. He really really hated these gowns...he slid it on and did up the velcro in the back. The stupid thing was a little small for him and it just barely covered up his ass. Dammit.

He sat up on the table and shifted around until the robes finally covered all of his junk (barely) and waited for the doctor to arrive. He wondered if he was just as eccentric as the rest of the staff he'd run into so far. Could a hospital really run like this? And was it any surprise his nutty sister went here? Robert jumped slightly as the door opened, head swiveling to see who had walked in.

It was a man, tall with (and Robert noticed this immediately) very long legs. He wore a long white doctor's coat over a pair of navy blue slacks and a button up white shirt that wasn't tucked into his pants. Robert's eyes traveled up further to his face to see a pair of silver-blue eyes staring at him framed by short brown hair that was almost curly. On his temple only slightly hidden by his hair was a vivid red scar.

Goddamn. Why did his proctologist have to be so fucking handsome?

"If you're done checking me out," drawled the doctor, "I think we should begin."

"I wasn't-" said Robert quickly, silenced by an upheld hand in his face.

"Doesn't matter," said the doctor, "My name is Dr. Alex Mercer and I will be your proctologist today, says here you're here for a prostate examination?"

"Er, yes, apparently," said Robert, shifting uncomfortably on the table.

Mercer looked up from his clipboard to raise an eyebrow at him, "Apparently?"

"Well, ah..." Robert cleared his throat, "My sister actually made the appointment for me..." Please let there be a hole for him to crawl in and die.

"Mmhmm..." Mercer made some notes and then set the clipboard aside, "Alright let's get started then."

Robert watched a little nervously as Dr. Mercer rolled up his sleeves and pulled out a pair of white latex gloves from a box on the counter. God damn, this was really happening. He watched the gloves slide over impossibly long fingers to snap threateningly as he let them go over his wrist. Robert swallowed compulsively, "So what are you just going to..." he regretted failing to do any research into this.

Mercer paused in the act of pulling something out of one of the cabinets below the counter and looked over his shoulder at Robert, "You have no idea what I'm about to do, do you?" he said.

"I have an idea," said Robert defensively, the paper crinkling under him as he shifted slightly.

"Well very shortly you'll have more than an idea," said Mercer, pulling out what Robert could now see was a big jar of lubricant. He got a pit of foreboding in his stomach, when he got home he was going to strangle his sister, he didn't _care_ about his health- WHY WAS MERCER LOOKING AT HIM LIKE THAT? Robert couldn't take his eyes off of Mercer's silver-blue ones as he popped open the cap on the lube and stuck his fingers in it, "Now bend over the table," he ordered.

Were all proctologists supposed to talk in a bedroom voice like that? Robert reluctantly got to his feet and bent over the examination table, hands crinkling up the paper with embarrassment as all his goods were bared. Why was he even WEARING this gown? He looked over his shoulder to watch Mercer approach him and just barely strangled down a whimper.

"You're in good shape," said Mercer lowly, grabbing one of his cheeks with the non-lubricated hand and squeezing, "Let's hope you're as healthy inside as out, eh?"

Robert jerked forward in surprise, "Is this really-gah!"

Mercer pushed a slick finger into him, effectively cutting off Robert's complaint, "Tight..." he said, wriggling the finger around, pushing it in deeper, "You ever have anal sex?"

"Okay, now I KNOW that's not a question you're- JESUS!" Robert let his forehead thump down on the table as Mercer's clever little finger went sliding against his prostate. Fuckity fuck fuck! He was NOT going to get hard while this doctor...molested him!

"Answer the question please," said Mercer calmly.

"I don't see how that's any of your buis-NESS!" Robert grit his teeth on a moan as his prostate was prodded again.

"Who's the doctor here?" asked Mercer, and Robert couldn't see is face but he sounded amused, "This is important information that I _need_ to know."

Robert growled, "Fine...yes...I have..."

"Older or younger partner, or do you stick to your own age?"

"Dr. Mercer this hardly seems appropriate- WHY GOD!" a second finger was slipped inside him and both of them prodded his sensitive spot repeatedly.

Mercer stilled his fingers, "Well?"

Robert's breath was ragged, and he could feel blood rushing to his cock. He was already half hard, jesus this was mortifying, "Little of...everything..." he grit out, "And I think I know what your next ques-TION-" another prod, "-is going to be and I haven't had anal in- FUCK-" god that was a sensual rub, "-years!"

"Oh, not picky with your partners?" purred Dr. Mercer, "Seems a bit...dangerous..."

"Fuck you!" gasped out Robert, hands clutching the examination table so hard his knuckles were white, "Those were my younger days!"

"You prefer relationships over fucking now?" The, clearly batshit insane, doctor pushed a third finger into him and Robert couldn't repress a groan. It really HAD been years, and this man was playing him like a tuned fiddle.

"Y-yeah," he panted out, "T-too old for...one night...stands..."

"Your file says you're 38 years of age, I think you might have a few more one night stands in you..." Mercer pulled all of his fingers out and Robert let out a noise that was somewhere between a sigh of relief and strangled moan of disappointment, "Turn around," ordered Mercer briskly.

Robert reluctantly did so, trying in vain to cover up his half-hard prick, "Is this _really_ what a prostate examine is like?" he asked, dark green eyes refusing to look at the doctor.

"Yes," said Mercer, giving Robert a shock as he spun over a rolly chair and sat down in it right before Robert, "Now I'm going to check you for testicular cancer," he said, lowering the chair until his face was level with Robert's crotch, "With my tongue, because it's a far more sensitive organ than my hands," Mercer's hands held on to Robert's hips and without further warning sucked in Robert's cock.

"Holy fucking shit!" he gasped out, hands going into the doctor's slightly curly brown hair and clenching, "You're got to be kidding me, holy fuck do that with your tongue again!" Robert leaned heavily on the examination table, face slack as he watched Mercer's mouth slide over his penis, bringing it embarrassingly enough to full hardness. He decided this was definitely NOT a prostate exam anymore. He also decided as long as he got off he definitely did not care.

Robert's eyes followed Mercer's mouth as it suckled almost delicately at the head, tongue flicking over his slit and making him moan with pleasure. Slowly the doctor slid further and further down, deep throating as much of Robert's cock as he could, in the back of his pleasure addled mind Robert admired how much talent that took, he wasn't a small man.

The doctor pulled back for a breath, light eyes still fixed on Robert's erection as he stroked over it quickly, his own saliva making Robert slick, "You have a very healthy organ," said Mercer, turning his light eyes to Robert, "Shall I check your balls now?"

"Fuck. Yes," gasped out Robert.

Mercer smirked and pushed Robert's length to lay against his hard stomach, hand still palming him and fingers toying sensually with the swollen head. He scoot the chair forward a little more and brought his mouth to the base of Robert's cock, mouthing lightly before he kissed his way down his sack. Robert wheezed as that mouth took in one of his balls, sucking lightly and laving over it with an eager tongue. Mercer pulled back and then licked over to the other one, opening his mouth wide to swallow it up and suck and lick over it.

"Mmm," Doctor Mercer pulled away with a short breath, looking up at Robert with a clinical detachment that sent a jolt of arousal straight to his prick...he felt like a fucking specimen, "Your testes are perfectly healthy Mr. Cross," he said, hand still stroking over Robert, "Let's move on to the final part of the prostate exam."

Robert was a little breathless, "What's the final part?" he asked.

"I fuck you over my examination table," said Mercer, in a voice better suited to telling someone he was about to check their reflexes, "So bend over it."

Robert did as he was told, after all, the doctor knew best. He looked over his shoulder to watch the other man roll away in his chair and stand up next to that ridiculous tub of lubrication. Mercer unbuckled his belt and popped the button his slacks before unzipping them and pulling out his erect cock. The doctor slathered his fingers in lube again, sticking them into that huge jar. Robert watched as he walked over, slick fingers liberally coating the throbbing length in his hand, making it glisten with lube.

He had to face forward again as he felt the blunt head press against his stretched hole, letting his head fall onto the crinkled paper of the examination table, "Oh...fuck..." he panted out as he felt that cock slowly slide in, filling him up better than those little fingers.

Mercer grunted as he moved into Robert, his hands clutching at his hips, "F-feeling healthy so far..." he said a little breathlessly.

They both groaned as Mercer finally thrust in to the hilt, "Start moving, dammit," snapped Robert, hands clenching against the table. He wanted to feel a hard cock thrusting into him, fucking him until he came all over the damned place. It had been too goddamn long since his last sexual encounter, he didn't care he was sitting in a hospital room with this immoral doctor. As long as Doctor Mercer took good care of him he didn't give a fuck one way or another.

The doctor seemed to take his words to heart because without waiting he started up a fast hard pace. Slamming his hips up against Robert's backside with a loud slapping noise that seemed to burrow into Robert's brain and make him moan uncontrollably. That slide of hard flesh inside him, how he had missed it. Mercer adjusted his hips to brush Robert's already sensitive prostate further and then he sunk his teeth into the paper and tore it up, "Fuck me harder!" he commanded, pressing back against every thrust and spitting examination paper out of his mouth.

"Christ," gasped out the doctor, pounding into Robert until he almost drove the breath from his lungs with every thrust.

"Ohhh fuck! I don't know-" panted out Robert, "-if you are the worst...doctor ever...or the best...ah ah ah!"

"The best," gasped Mercer.

Robert wanted to argue but he really couldn't while the other man was fucking him blind. The stupid gown was hardly even on anymore, the flimsy velcro having given up at Robert's heaving back and shoulders. It simply hung off his body, the only thing keeping it on was Robert's position, making it bunch up at his arms. It practically tied him down so he couldn't even reach down and touch himself. Goddammit, and moving to take it all the way off was too much for his overheating brain.

Thankfully Mercer's very slick gloved hand gave him a wrap around, fisting his leaking prick quickly as if wanting him to come NOW. From the sounds Mercer was making behind him the other man was close to coming inside him. Robert vaguely recognized the irony of having unprotected sex in a doctor's office. Then Mercer did this weird pinching thing at the head of his cock and Robert could barely think about breathing much less what constituted irony.

"Fuck! Yes!" Robert growled, hips rocking back against the thrusting and into that tight stroking hand. He felt that wonderful heat starting to coil like a spring in his belly, getting ready to go off at any minute. Robert bit his lip, oh god so close...SO...CLOSE.

"You...are a paramount...of health..." gasped out Mercer, as if he was stamping that down on Robert's official bill of health and giving it to him. Or maybe that was just how he talked dirty during sex. Whatever it was it was, oddly enough, it was the thing that pushed Robert over the edge at last.

He yelled wordlessly as that spring shot off in his body, hips jerking erratically as he came all over the side of the table his fingers were scratching at. His ears were filled with his own cries and the sounds of ripping examination paper, a sound he now found sexy. Damn that was going to make future doctor's visits a little awkward. Behind him Mercer moaned as Robert's body clamped around him during his orgasm. Robert panted for breath as his cock finally stopped spurting out come and he crashed down from his peak, feeling cold and sore and sort of awkward. He grit his teeth and grunted as Mercer's frantic hips stopped at once and he felt the other man's hot come splashing inside him. That got his softening dick twitching slightly.

"Good exam," said Mercer, a little breathless as he pulled out and stepped back, peeling off the gloves and tossing them in the trash before reaching down to tuck himself back into his slacks and zip them up.

Robert groaned and stood up straight, feeling his back pop and Mercer's come trickling down his thighs, "I'd hate to see a bad exam," he grumbled, reaching back and prodding his hole with his fingers, hissing slightly at the feeling. That _had_ been a good fuck, but he wasn't going to tell Doctor Mercer that.

Robert's eyes fell on the examination table and the absolute mess of ripped up paper, it looked like someone had released a rabid weasel on it. He cleared his throat and looked away, turning to see Mercer at the sink getting a rag wet, "Turn around," he said, "And take off that gown, you can get dressed after this."

"After what?" asked Robert suspiciously, tossing off the gown and leaning back over the table.

"I'm just going to clean you up a little," said the doctor softly, bringing the damp rag over to Robert and running it softly over his thighs, cleaning up all the come that had leaked out, "You might want to take a shower when you get home," he said as he worked, reaching around to clean Robert's flaccid penis with it as well. His touch was oddly gentle and Robert squirmed a bit at the strange treatment. When the doctor deemed him clean enough he stepped back and Robert took that as his que to get dressed.

"So..." he said, slipping on his pants and buckling them up, "I don't have to come in again...?"

Doctor Mercer fished a pair of reading glasses out of his pocket and slipped them onto the bridge of his nose while looking down at his clipboard. He pulled a pen out of his lab coat pocket and started to write, the florescent lights caught the glass and flashed over the lenses, hiding Mercer's light eyes from view. Oddly enough this gave Robert a foreboding feeling he could not shake. He pulled on his shirt and then slipped his shoes back on. This whole situation had such a surreal feeling to it, almost like he was about to wake up at any minute.

He didn't wake up and Doctor Mercer ripped some paper from his clipboard and handed it to Robert, "Take this to the front desk and Mr. Hastings will take care of you," he pulled his glasses off and tucked them back into his lab coat, "Take care."

"Er," Robert took the paper and tried to read it over, but Mercer's handwriting was nothing more than unreadable chicken scratch, "Right..." he tucked it into his pocket, "I'll do that..."

This was more awkward than that time he'd had sex in a bathroom stall while completely wasted, left his partner passed out with his head in the toilet, and then ran into him again the next day at a funeral. The conversation had been roughly the equivalent of dragging nails over a chalkboard.

This was like a thousand nails over a thousand chalkboards.

He headed for the door and when Mercer didn't stop him, rushed out. Nurse Malik was nowhere to be found so Robert had to navigate his way back to the front of the hospital on his own. He couldn't stay he minded too much, the last thing he wanted was that one armed nurse getting sarcastic with him after this. Robert only got lost once before finding the front desk, where a dusky skinned man with an obviously broken arm was wheedling the receptionist, probably Mr. Hastings, for pain pills.

"Cooome ooon Shaun!" he whined, holding onto his broken limb.

"Fuck no," said the receptionist, "Desmond, that needs to get set, you can't take pain pills and expect it to get better."

Desmond whined a bit more before Shaun actually stood up from his desk and punched him in the broken arm. Robert winced as the other man went down in a heap on the floor. This was a hospital of horrors. He watched as two nurses wandered out with a stretcher at Shaun's call and carried the drooling man away.

"Oy! You!" snapped the receptionist at Robert, "You going to bloody stand there all day and waste my time or are you going to get over here?!"

"I have a paper from Dr. Mercer," he said, pulling it out of his pocket and handing it to the terrifying Mr. Hastings.

Mr. Hastings snatched it out of his hand and read over it quickly, "Right then," he snapped, turning to his computer and typing something down lightning fast, "Patient Robert Cross, age 38, sex male, sexual orientation gay as a lark-"

"Hey! That is not on there!" Robert tried to grab the paper but Hastings bared his teeth in a way that suggested he wasn't above biting. Robert quickly withdrew his hand.

"-just finished a prostate exam," continued Hastings as if he hadn't been interrupted, "Will be back for follow-up appointment in a week."

Robert had to process that last part. Back. In a week. Hastings printed something out and shoved it at him, "Er, I thought I was healthy," he said, taking the paper which detailed the time and date of his next appointment.

"Listen, I just follow the fucking paper the doctors give me, okay?" snapped the receptionist, "You got a problem with it? Then fuck you, I don't care!"

"Right," said Robert, a bit stunned, "Sounds lovely..." he tucked the paper away and headed for the door.

Later that night at dinner...

"So how was your exam?"


End file.
